XII.
It was starting to drizzle, and was growing darker by the minute as Victor tore down the drive and out onto the road that led to the bridge.
The misty rain was making everything slick and muddy. He was probably getting mud all over his trousers, but at the moment it couldn't matter less. A million different thoughts seemed to go through his mind as he ran--they were all disconnected, little flashes--wondering about Victoria, focusing on getting to Dr. Van Ekel's as quickly as he possibly could.
He had no idea how long it took him to get to the doctor's house--it seemed as though he'd flown there, that's how little he remembered of his trip. Dr. Van Ekel's house was actually rather close to the fish market, right on the square. It was newer than the two buildings next to it, and was in much better shape. A little placard on the door announced, "Gregor Van Ekel, Physician." Victor had never noticed before that the doctor had almost been his next-door neighbor. His parents' house was dark, as was the Everglots'. Then he remembered that they were all away. It's me and Victoria, he found himself thinking.
Starting to shiver a bit in the chilly drizzle, Victor stood on the doctor's front steps gasping for breath. It occurred to him that he'd just run almost a mile and a half without stopping. Once he'd got some of his breath back, and his heartbeat had slowed to a relatively normal pace, he rang the bell. When no one answered immediately, he started knocking, not letting up until he heard footsteps on the other side of the door.
"Please, is the doctor in?" Victor asked as soon as the door opened. The woman who answered it was obviously a maid, judging by the uniform.
"Do come in, sir," the maid replied, opening the door more widely. But Victor shook his head.
"I just need the doctor," he said quickly. "Please, it's urgent."
"Shall I tell him who is calling?" Victor closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath through his nose.
"Victor Van Dort," he replied, as evenly as he could. "It's my wife. The doctor...he's needed at a birth." Victor felt a bit funny, saying that out loud to a stranger. It didn't seem...proper, somehow. But the maid gave him an assessing sort of look, then shrugged.
"As you wish. Just a moment, please," she said, and, after hesitating for just a moment, shut the door in Victor's face.
Anxious, Victor thrust his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and stood there on the stoop, hunched against the rain. Maybe he should have accepted the invitation to wait indoors. Behind him he heard the sound of a carriage clattering past on the cobblestones, and he turned to look. In the dimness, the lanterns that hung near the driver's seat looked almost like beacons, illuminating the Van Dort's Fish advertisement on the side of the carriage. The carriage slowed, and pulled to a stop in front of the doctor's house. Squinting, Victor tried to see inside the carriage.
"Quite a night to be out visiting," said a voice. After a moment, William leaned his head out of the carriage window, pulling his top hat forward a bit to keep the rain out of his face.
"Father!" Victor said, surprised. "I thought you were at the shooting party."
"I had some things to finish up at work," William replied. "I'll be heading off tomorrow. What are you up to?"
"It's Victoria," Victor explained. To elaborate, he gestured at the placard on the doctor's door. What is Dr. Van Ekel doing? Where is he? Victor thought, beginning to get a little impatient. For all he knew, the baby could be born already. William glanced at the doctor's door, then turned his attention back to Victor.
"That time, is it?" William asked. Then, grinning, he winked and gave Victor the thumbs-up.
"Good work, Victor. Knew you had it in you," he said.
"Er...thank you," Victor replied. Just then, Dr. Van Ekel came waddling onto the front stoop, carrying his little black bag. Finally!
"Evening, Mr. Van Dort. Let's be on our way, shall we?" Dr. Van Ekel said, closing the door. Glancing up and down the street, he asked, "Where's your carriage?"
"I...didn't bring one," Victor replied. The doctor cocked an eyebrow.
"You walked here?"
"Not exactly. I ran most of the way." William chuckled from the carriage.
"Made good time," he remarked. Then, swinging the carriage door open, he said, "Why not take mine?" When Victor and the doctor didn't immediately reply, William gestured them forward.
"Come on then, hop in," he said. "Are we going to get this done or aren't we?"
We? Victor thought as he allowed the doctor to climb into the carriage before him. Quickly he followed, settling himself next to his father. William leaned out the carriage window to look up at the driver.
"Slight change of plans," he said. "We're going to my son's house instead." The driver said something that Victor couldn't hear. In any case, the carriage jolted away from the curb, and headed out of the town gates.
As much as Victor hated to admit it, the trip was quicker in a carriage. Especially quick, actually, the way that William's driver drove.
Soon enough, they were pulling up the drive in front of Victor and Victoria's house. Victor practically leapt at the carriage door, almost tripping as he exited the carriage as fast as he could. He held the door for the doctor, and was just about to shut it again and thank his father for the ride when William stopped him.
"What are you doing?" William asked, stopping the door with his cane. "I'm coming along. If you don't mind, that is." With that, William stepped out of the carriage.
"You can leave," he said to the driver. "My son's driver will give me a lift back." Before Victor could say anything, the carriage was leaving.
"You're staying?" Victor asked. He held up a hand. "No, really, I couldn't ask you to--"
"Oh, nonsense. I'll bet you could use some company," William replied, brushing past Victor to head up onto the porch alongside the doctor.
"What about the shooting party? Won't Mother be upset if you're late?" Victor asked, trotting to catch up. True, he didn't really want to be alone...but he didn't really want to spend the evening with his father, either. William waved a hand.
"Eh, she'll be all right," he replied. Victor sighed.
"All right," he said, opening the front door and gesturing his father and the doctor inside.
O---O
"You're liable to wear a hole in this nice new carpet if you keep that up," William remarked. "My giddy aunt, you're making me dizzy."
For the past hour or so, Victor had been pacing all over the parlor. He just didn't know what to do with himself. The doctor had not been happy when he'd arrived to find that Victoria had quite a way to go yet. Well, how was Victor supposed to tell? It wasn't as though he'd done this before. After offers of extra payment, the doctor had agreed to stay at Victoria's bedside, despite how long it was probably going to take. So now Dr. Van Ekel was in Victoria's bedroom, presumably with the newspaper that he'd taken the time to nick from the hall table on his last trip downstairs. As for Victoria...Victor didn't know. And it was driving him mad.
So he kept up his pacing, stopping to look out the window, picking things up and putting them back down again, and generally feeling pretty useless. Matters were entirely out of his hands. Victor was too consumed with his own thoughts to acknowledge that his father had spoken.
William, for his part, seemed fine. He'd lost no time installing himself in Victor's armchair near the fireplace. He'd been sitting there attempting to make conversation--mostly about the cannery--for quite a while, despite Victor's making it quite clear (or so Victor thought), that he really wasn't in the mood for conversation. Especially not about fish.
"How about a drink?" William asked, trying again. "That'll calm you down."
"No, thank you," Victor said absently, looking at the floor as he paced past the armchair.
"Well, I could use a drink," William said. That stopped Victor for a moment. Turning, he gave his father a questioning look. In response, William shrugged and then spread his arms.
"I think a toast is in order!" he said. "I'm going to be a grandfather. And you're going to be a father! Imagine," he continued, leaning forward on his cane and looking into the fireplace. "You've got a wife, a house, and now a baby. Victor, you're a person!"
Victor supposed that that was meant as a clumsy compliment, so he didn't mention the fact that he didn't have a baby yet.
"Um...there might be some tea in the kitchen," Victor said, running a hand over his eyes. "I can go look. It's probably cold, but--"
"Anything stronger?" William asked, cutting him off.
"No, we don't keep anything like that in the house." Victor dropped onto the sofa, moving the pillows that Victoria had been using earlier out of the way. It seemed like an eternity ago, even though it had only been about three hours. Or was it four?
William seemed taken aback. "Well," he said, tapping his cane on the floor for emphasis. "I know what I'm getting you for a birthday present, then."
Victor didn't bother to respond. He just sat, tapping his hand against the sofa's armrest. He wished he could go see Victoria. He wanted to assure himself that she was all right. But of course he couldn't--it wasn't his place to be present when a baby was being born. So he sighed, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling.
"Why not go to sleep, if you need something to do?" William asked. He glanced at the clock. "It's only nine, but going to bed early's good for you."
"Sleep?" Victor repeated, incredulous. He sat up. "Sleep? How am I supposed to sleep?" It seemed awful to Victor that he should even think about sleeping while Victoria was spending a painful night without him.
"In my experience, it's rather easy," William replied, picking a piece of lint off of his cuff. "You lay down, close your eyes, and sleep generally follows." William found that little quip to be much more amusing than Victor did. Victor couldn't help rolling his eyes.
"Yes, thank you, Father," he said. Then, surprising himself, he asked, "I suppose you were able to sleep when I was...you know..."
"Born?" William finished. When Victor nodded, his father shook his head. "No, I didn't sleep when you arrived."
Rather surprised, Victor leaned forward a bit. He was warmed by that little revelation. Warmed, that is, until William added,
"You were born in the afternoon. Generally speaking, I sleep in the nighttime."
"Oh," Victor replied. Then, for whatever reason, it suddenly occurred to Victor that his father had been in the same place that he was at the moment, once upon a time. There were things he wanted to ask, but wasn't sure how. He and his father had never been all that close, but still...William was Victor's father. Victor remembered that day, months ago, when he and Victoria had visited the Everglots with the news that Victoria was pregnant. Maudeline had shocked them both that day. Perhaps, under the circumstances, Victor could be allowed to venture a question or two that he normally wouldn't.
"Father..." Victor began. He wasn't quite sure what he wanted to say.
"Yes?" William prompted after a moment. For a few seconds they stared at one another.
"I'm...I'm going to be someone's father," Victor finally said. Luckily, William seemed to understand the implication behind that obvious declaration.
"You'll be fine," he said, speaking in a tone Victor had only heard him use rarely. "It's quite something, really, having children. After all, it's what we're here for, isn't it?"
"Yes, I suppose it is," Victor replied. "But...Victoria..." Feebly, he gestured toward the ceiling, hoping his father would understand what he meant.
"Oh, she'll be fine, too," William said. "I've told you before, you hooked a real winner."
If you only knew, Victor thought.
"Yes," his father continued reflectively, looking at Victor carefully. "Nothing quite like it. I'd say you really can't help caring about your children. No feeling like it."
An awkward pause followed that pronouncement. William appeared to have embarrassed himself, judging by the way he tapped his cane and looked into the fire. Victor regarded his father. He'd never once, not once, really thought that his parents cared about him--at least, not as anything more than a pawn to use to "marry up." He could tell that his father wanted to let the matter drop, but now Victor wanted to know. He'd probably never get another chance like this one. After twenty-two years, he felt that he was entitled. Though it was probably only the present circumstances that led him to be so curious about it. He already loved his son or daughter, but he honestly couldn't comprehend his parents having that same feeling toward him.
"Father, you mean that you actually, well...like me?" Victor asked. That was the only way he could think to phrase the question that didn't sound improper.
"Please don't ask me stupid questions, Victor," William replied. But Victor went on anyway.
"And Mother?" he pressed, regretting it even as he spoke. But he wanted to know. "She doesn't care about me, I know that much."
"Careful there," William said, turning toward him again. "She's your mother. Of course she cares about you."
Victor was struck dumb for a second. "I find that hard to believe," he finally replied.
"Well, she does," William said firmly. Then, after thinking for a moment, he added, "But no, you're right in a way--she doesn't like you very much."
"Thank you very much," Victor said, almost in a mutter. He leaned his head back again. I am so glad Victoria is nothing like Mother, he thought. Victoria already loves the baby, too.
"All I meant was that you and your mother aren't all that much alike," William suddenly said. "True, she doesn't have a lot of patience for you, but that doesn't mean she doesn't care about you. Somewhere...er, deep, deep down. And now we're through talking about it, all right?"
"All right," Victor replied at length. After a moment, William started talking about something related to work--salmon, from what Victor managed to catch. But he wasn't really listening. His thoughts were with Victoria. Also, he was thinking over what his father had just told him. Parental feelings were something entirely new--William was right, there didn't seem to be anything quite like it. Victor's stomach clenched when he realized how easily he could have missed this. There would have been no children for him if events three years ago had gone differently. He felt very sorry, once again, that Emily had been robbed of the opportunity to have a family. It was terrible, and unfair. She probably would have made a wonderful mother.
Thank you, Victor thought to himself, taking a moment to conjure up Emily's face in his mind. Victoria and I both thank you. We wouldn't have wanted to miss out on this, not for the world. Staring at the ceiling, he blinked slowly.
Victoria, we're going to be fine.
